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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25151923">Lady Grey</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseisaRoseisaRose/pseuds/RoseisaRoseisaRose'>RoseisaRoseisaRose</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Lady Grey Extended Universe [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>And Friendship, F/M, I guess coffee shop AU?, Modern AU, breakups and crushes and dumb post college stuff, but it's all tea, when your friends are kind of terrible but you're also kind of terrible</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 03:34:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,531</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25151923</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseisaRoseisaRose/pseuds/RoseisaRoseisaRose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When an unexpected breakup throws Lysithea through a loop, her best friend from college (and the worst person she knows) drags her to a newly opened tea shop and bakery to cheer her up. It could've been a perfect plan if he would stop being so friendly with the adorable barista.</p><p>Modern AU that's kiiiind of a coffee shop AU? Mostly it's about how I think Lysithea and Felix should be friends.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Cyril/Lysithea von Ordelia, Felix Hugo Fraldarius &amp; Lysithea von Ordelia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Lady Grey Extended Universe [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1961659</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>79</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Lady Grey</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightsstarr/gifts">nightsstarr</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>To say the phone ringing woke Lysithea up would imply that she had been asleep in the first place. She hadn’t – climbing into bed and pulling the covers over your head didn’t count as sleeping, even if you stayed that way for hours. But she was still jolted out of </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> when the phone started buzzing on her bedside table. She had put it on Do Not Disturb, so it she was hoping to spend today, like yesterday, ignoring the flood of texts Hilda would send when she felt she was being ignored.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Lysithea rolled over and picked up her phone. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Felix Fraldarius</span>
  </em>
  <span> was flashed on the screen, accompanied by a cat emoji on either side. Lysithea closed her eyes and groaned. She wanted to throw her phone across the room, but with her luck it would probably break. So she hit reject and flopped back into a pillow.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She’d barely gotten the blanket back over her head when the phone rang again.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” she snapped as she answered it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Open your fucking door,” Felix’s voice crackled through the phone. “I’ve been knocking forever.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Lysithea made indistinct annoyed noises into the phone, but he’d already hung up. She threw back the covers with a groan and trudged out of her bedroom, through the living room, and to the front door. Her apartment was too big, she decided. She needed a cuter place. Or maybe Marianne needed a roommate.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She threw open the door and glared up at the man standing on the other side. It was late spring and Felix was still wearing his stupid winter hoodie. He didn’t need it and it made him look like they were still in college. She turned and walked away wordlessly, leaving the door open. Felix and his stupid hoodie followed after her.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You look terrible,” Felix said with absolutely no concern in his voice as he walked into her front hall. She heard a faint </span>
  <em>
    <span>meow </span>
  </em>
  <span>and knew without looking back that Felix had picked up Thyrsus. The cat was an escape artist; she was probably dumb to leave the door open like that, but she could trust Felix to catch him before he could make a run for it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That realization just annoyed her more.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“How many pints of ice cream did you eat last night, Sith?” Felix asked as he glanced at her coffee table. “That’s just a cliché at this point.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She flopped face first on the couch in her living room. “If I’m so depressing, no one asked you to be here,” she snapped.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s where you’re wrong,” Felix said. He settled into an armchair and grabbed the remote, turning on the TV and flipping through channels. Lysithea snuck a glance at him from her newfound couch pillow fort. He wasn’t looking at her. “Hilda sent me like a dozen instagram messages this morning,” he said, his eyes on the TV. “She says you – hold on, let me check.” Felix stopped flipping through channels long enough to pull out his phone. Lysithea wordlessly stared at the baking competition happening on her television. She wanted a British sponge cake. It was unfair that Mary Berry got to eat all the British sponge cake when she had never suffered a day in her life, as far as Lysithea knew.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“She says you ‘ghosted her at the jazz reception’ last night and then ‘missed hot yoga’ this morning and I need to ‘get her to patch things up with Cyril before tonight’s wine tasting,’” Felix read out, just the hint of Hilda-esque annoyance in his voice as he recited her messages. He looked up at Lysithea, “Your hobbies are terrible.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Lysithea buried her face back in the pillow and mumbled something so indistinct she wasn’t even sure if she knew what she was throwing back at Felix.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>There was a long pause. The gentle British lilt of the announcer told Lysithea about a contestant who kept bees in his spare time and really loved his wife of 35 years.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“So.” Felix finally interrupted the stupid, perfect beekeeper’s stupid, perfect life. “Why’d you dump him this time?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Lysithea turned towards him wordlessly. Thyrsus was purring in his lap. Lazy bastard hadn’t even checked on her all morning after she fed him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“None of your business,” she mumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Did he buy you jumper cables for Valentine’s Day again?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s May.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did he stand you up for one of your charity galas or whatever the fuck because Rhea needed him to work overtime at the last minute?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Go away, Felix.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Did he –”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“He broke up with </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>, okay?” Lysithea finally sat up straight, but only so she could reach a pillow and throw it at Felix. It missed him, but Thyrsus still gave a yelp and jumped off his lap. She considered that a slight victory.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Felix gaped at her. It was true that this hadn’t happened in the three years she and Cyril had been on-again, off-again, but she thought Felix could at least pretend to look like this was a normal, manageable situation. Why was he even here if he wasn’t prepared to lie to her about that.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Why – why’d he do that?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Lystithea pulled her knees up on the couch and rested her chin on her arms. “Because I’m a heartless, snobby bitch who’s never worked a day for a thing in her life and makes his life worse while pretending I’m solving all his problems,” she snapped bitterly.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>A muscle in Felix’s neck twitched faintly as his eyes narrowed. “He said that?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Lysithea said. “He was much nicer.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Felix relaxed slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Nicer is worse.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Felix paused. “This was yesterday?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Three days ago,” Lysithea said. What was he, a crime scene investigator?</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been like this for three days?” Felix paused. “I guess that makes the ice cream situation better. Have you eaten anything else?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lyithea tried to remember. “I had some pita chips for dinner last night,” she said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She could see Felix latching onto a solution as she said it. Hilda had chosen the wrong friend to send to her; she wanted someone who would sit there and watch her cry and put on a steady stream of stupid movies to distract her as they told her that she was right about everything. Felix couldn’t sit still long enough to even get through the first part of that. Sure enough, he was on his feet and scooping up empty ice cream cartons almost immediately.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Go put on some shoes, let’s get some lunch,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Lysithea hated when he tried to boss her around. She curled tighter into a ball. “No,” she said, “I don’t want to.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, Sith, protein will make you feel better.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been wearing these clothes for three days.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So put on different clothes,” Felix called from the kitchen.  She could hear the faint trace of annoyance in his voice – </span>
  <em>
    <span>How can someone as smart as you be so fucking stupid</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he’d once asked her in a drunken fight she played on repeat when she needed a reason to hate herself and things were actually going well with Cyril. Felix came back around the corner and she wanted to be mad at him for that fight from senior year all over again but his eyes softened when he saw her curled up on the couch and she could only be mad at herself, again.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on,” he said. “I’ll take you anywhere you want. I’ll take you to that awful frozen yogurt shop you like.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They closed last year,” Lysithea mumbled, feeling a bit triumphant, as if that proved her unsolvable misfortune. “And there’s no protein in frozen yogurt.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, forget the protein,” said Felix, perching on the arm of the couch. “What do you want? We’ll do that.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Lysithea didn’t want to look at him for fear it would actually make her feel better, so she stared ahead at the TV screen. Two contestants were nervously giggling as they crouched by the oven. They were terrible at the idea of competition.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Lysithea pointed at the screen. “I want that,” she said firmly.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Felix raised an eyebrow. “You want. . . The Great British Bakeoff?” he clarified.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Lysithea said. “I want tea and crumpets and jam cake and china and doilies and –” she gave a slight gasp and looked at Felix. “You know what I want.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Felix realized. He groaned. “Come ooooooon, Lysithea.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You said anywhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“The front sign alone gave me a cavity. If I go inside I’ll probably go into sugar shock.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“My life is in shambles.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Felix closed his eyes and sighed. Lysithea actually snickered, which didn’t help her mourning persona. But she knew, and Felix knew, when she had won.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>If you have to lose the war, she figured, you might as well win a battle along the way.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The shop was tucked down a corner a few streets away from the main thoroughfare of the city, and Felix could only find parking several blocks away. Lysithea stared up at the sign with glee, trying to hide her slightly labored breathing – she always had to take two steps for Felix’s one, and he’d never been inclined to look back for her.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The sign was bright pink with white lettering, advertising </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lady Grey’s Tea and Sweet Shop</span>
  </em>
  <span> in large, looping calligraphy. A cartoon design of a cat peeked over the final “o” of the sign, it’s mouth a matching expression of surprise, as if the design was supposed to be for “Lady Grey’s Tea and Sweet Sh8p” and the cat was just a creative flourish. It was so adorable Lysithea could practically feel her teeth ache, a feeling she was sure would only be compounded once she was able to get her hands on any of the pastries in the front window display case. She clapped her hands together and gave a wild giggle of victory.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I regret ever becoming friends with you,” Felix said flatly, leaning away from the sign as if the lettering physically pained him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No you don’t. Come on!” Lysithea said, swinging the door open and pulling Felix in after her. She was immediately met by the smell of baked goods, although coffee was conspicuously absent relative to the general atmosphere of local coffee shops and bakeries. Every piece of furniture in the shop looked as if it had been purchased at an estate sale – or, more likely, several estate sales, as none of the pieces matched each other, save the odd pair of chairs which seemed to be intentionally placed at separate tables. The walls were hung with reproductions of Degas paintings, thrift store finds, and what appeared to be one or two original art pieces of middling quality.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>As there were no other customers sitting at the mismatched tables, and no one working at the front counter, Lysithea simply picked the chair she liked best and flopped down, eagerly waiting for Felix to join her. He trudged over and took the seat across from her, looking around at the decorations with as much disdain as Lysithea had joy, and likely for the same reasons.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know my grandmother had taken up work as an interior designer,” he muttered, looking critically at a painting of a cow, or perhaps a horse, standing in a field of red flowers.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll bring your grandma with me next time I come,” Lysithea hissed back at him. “She’ll be a lot more fun than y –”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The curtains leading back to the kitchens swung open, and a young woman with shockingly red hair braiding into two elaborate pigtails poked her head out, gave a small gasp, and then dashed to their table, two menus in hand.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Welcome to Lady Grey’s, is this your first time here?” she said, handing them each a menu, a large, single sheet of cardstock organized into neat columns on either side of the page. “Do you have any questions about the menu?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can we just order at the front counter?” Lysithea asked, actually having a question about the menu, which had to be a first in the history of restaurants.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The girl’s face fell slightly, but she recovered. “You can if you want,” she said, pivoting to look more fully at Lysithea. “But we have a special for a cream tea that comes in courses, and it’s really fun if you have the time to – wait a minute. Lysithea?” She tilted her head to the side and Lysithea was suddenly hit with a shock of nostalgia, a question in the middle of pre-algebra class accompanied by an identical head tilt, identical braids swinging downwards.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Annette?” she said, nearly dropping her menu. “I haven’t – it’s been what, eight years? Nine? You haven’t changed a bit!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Annette, for it truly was her middle school gym partner and sometimes confidante, laughed brightly. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>hope</span>
  </em>
  <span> that’s not the case! I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>so awkward</span>
  </em>
  <span> in middle school. Wow, Lysithea, imagine running into you here. We just opened, you know. It’s like fate.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been wanting to come here for weeks, you know,” Lysithea said. “Ever since I saw the sign. This place is just </span>
  <em>
    <span>so you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Annette.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s with the cat?” asked Felix, tapping at the logo at the top of the menu. Lysithea looked over at him in shock. She was expecting a taciturn glare and monosyllabic order, but he looked up at Annette with an expression that bordered on interested. Lysithea frowned at him. She didn’t like this bizarre behavior.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Annette looked over at Felix excitedly. “That’s Lady Grey. She’s our shop mascot,” she explained eagerly, lovingly, as if Lady Grey were a close personal friend of hers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s a cat café?” Felix asked, and Annette giggled – actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>giggled</span>
  </em>
  <span> –in reply.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I guess you could say that!” she sang cheerfully.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Where is Lady Grey, then?” Felix asked, craning his neck to look towards the back corners with new interest. Lysithea’s frown deepened.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Annette’s face fell, as well, though not nearly as severely. “Oh . . . we don’t have – we don’t have a license for that,” she said, glumly. “She’s mostly hypothetical, at the moment.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Felix’s eyebrows raised, and he picked up the menu again. “Hypothetical’s nice,” he said, and Annette gave him a wide smile that he almost seemed to match, if a smile could be equally hypothetical.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“So what’s good on the menu here, Annette?” Lysithea asked, leaning forward as if that could cut the unwavering eye contact Felix was giving her rediscovered friend.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Annette didn’t notice the look that Felix gave Lysithea, half amusement and half annoyance, as she turned back to Lysithea and quickly flipped the menu over, walking her through the different types of tea and specials on a three-course accompaniment that they had on right now. Lysithea, taking the philosophy that you should do as the Romans do when in Rome, ordered the specialty courses that Annette was so excited about, and then glared at Felix until he ordered the same. Annette beamed at both of them and then disappeared into the back room once again, leaving a menu behind.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You got awfully cheerful, awfully fast,” Lysithea remarked, her voice as casual as a death threat.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Felix looked at her, unimpressed. “English Breakfast’s my favorite and I didn’t think they’d have it,” he said sarcastically, and Lysithea made a move to kick him under the table but he dodged her feet easily. “So you guys know each other? What, you went to high school together?” he asked, his voice as casual as a marriage proposal.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Junior high,” Lysithea said tightly. “You’re not usually so interested in my acquaintances, Felix. Trying to uncover secrets about my disastrous middle school fashion sense?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I like her Princess Leia hair,” Felix said, not answering the question. “It’s cute.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Princess Leia never wore her hair like that, and even if she did, I don’t see why –”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Shh,” Felix shushed Lysithea, looking over to the front counter, where Annette was busy plating two complicated sets of teapots and accoutrements on an oversized tray.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Shh? She’s not going to care that I’m a better Star Wars fan than you, Felix,” Lysithea protested, not appreciating being treated like a child.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No, shh, just – what </span>
  <em>
    <span>song</span>
  </em>
  <span> is that? Is that some top 40 trash?” Felix asked, jerking his head towards the front counter.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Lysithea cocked her head and listened. Annette was singing under her breath, a catchy tune with nonsensical lyrics that never quite hit the exact rhyme and, as far as Lysithe could tell, were about a flower and a walrus that were eloping.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes Felix, it’s the pop sensation of the summer,” she said, her voice dripping with enough sarcasm that even someone as out of the loop as Felix couldn’t mistake her meaning. “All the kids today love songs about daffodil matrimony. Why do you even care?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s catchy,” Felix muttered, and Lysithea was distraught to see that he didn’t appear to have heard a word she had said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You literally just called it trash.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I asked if it was top 40 trash,” Felix said, swinging around to face her as Annette picked up the trays but before she looked over towards them. “That’s not an insult, it’s just a genre.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Covering your ass,” Lysithea hissed accusingly.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it’s stuck in my head now, regardless,” Felix said. “Although I can’t decide if rhyming ‘walrus’ and ‘all of us’ is genius or criminal.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Never too late to quit your job and become a part time DJ, Felix,” Lysithea said. “I feel like you have a true calling for –”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“English breakfast and peach-ginger!” Annette sang as she approached the table, balancing the tea tray on one hand in a move that Lysithea could only describe as “hazardous.” She rapidly set down two teapots (purple for Felix and mint green for Lysithea), two teacups, a ceramic creamer in the shape of a cat, and two small bowls with sugar cubes in them. Lysithea’s head spun at the array – and her eyes focused in on the sugar cubes, which were tinged pastel colors and seemed to be calling to her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um, would it be alright if I got another thing of sugar?” she asked, reaching for one of the individually-sized sugar bowls and sliding it towards her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Annette blushed wildly at this. “Oh, yeah, of course! Of course. I always wonder if we should just bring more at the start, but –”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You can have mine, Sith, don’t worry about an extra,” Felix said, sliding his own array of sugary squares across the table to her.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Annette looked at him in horror. “But then you won’t have any,” she said, her voice a slight wail.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s fine,” Felix said, looking up and raising an eyebrow, which Lysithea knew from experience counted as a smile from him. “I don’t like sweet things.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t – what?” Annette said, the color draining out of her face.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The not-smile dropped. Felix looked concerned, vaguely. “Is that a problem?” he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, of course not!” Annette said, snapping back into her chipper, cheery mask of efficiency. “You’re allowed to like whatever you like! It’s just –” her mask slipped again, for a moment. “You don’t like </span>
  <em>
    <span>sweet</span>
  </em>
  <span> things?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Felix said, leaning forward and looking up at her. “I guess it’s more that I’m very particular about what sweet things I like.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He moved his feet before Lysithea could kick him under the table. Her toes made unfortunate contact with his chair leg, instead, and she winced.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Annette didn’t seem to notice – but, Lysithea thought smugly, she also didn’t seem to notice any double meanings. She grinned at Felix widely, as if he’d just told her that her birthday was happening twice this year. “Well, you’re in luck, then!” she said. “Mercie makes the </span>
  <em>
    <span>best</span>
  </em>
  <span> sweets in Fódlan; we’ll definitely find you something you like.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t wait,” Felix said, and he smiled for real as she walked away from the table.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Felix,” Lysithea snarled at him as soon as Annette disappeared behind the back doors. “What do you think you are </span>
  <em>
    <span>doing</span>
  </em>
  <span> right now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Felix looked up from his tea, his eyes a picture of innocence. “I’m pouring my tea? You can’t just drink it directly out of the pot, Lysithea, we’re in </span>
  <em>
    <span>proper society</span>
  </em>
  <span> right now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know that’s not what I mean,” Lysithea snapped, dumping sugar cubes into her teapot, and then grabbing one and popping it directly into her mouth. Sugar crystals dissolved on her tongue as she jabbed a finger accusingly at Felix. “I expressly forbid you from hitting on my friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Felix frowned. “Hitting on, really? I was just trying to be friendly.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, exactly!” Lysithea cried, leaning forward against the table. “That’s why I’m so concerned!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I'm friendly,” Felix said defensively, taking a sip of his tea and wincing, evidently finding it too hot still.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not and you know it, and Annette’s my oldest friend, and I won’t have you ruining her life,” Lysithea said primly. She poured a generous amount of cream into her teacup and took a sip without burning her tongue at all, a small victory over Felix.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He rolled his eyes, unimpressed with her temperature regulation. “She was your middle school lab partner, not your maid of honor.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Lysithea switched to puppy dog eyes at the drop of a hat. “I’m never going to have a maid of honor because I'm going to die alone,” she lamented, taking another sip of tea, as dramatically as possible. “And the fact you would bring such a thing up just proves that Annette deserves better.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The glare Felix gave her was too ferocious to possibly be in response to her comment, but as Annette came into view, holding a showstopping three-tiered platter filled with sandwiches and sweets, Lysithea realized he was barely even listening to her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ta-daaaa!” Annette sang, setting the tower of food at the center of the table and a small plate in front of each of them. “We’ve got savory sandwiches on the bottom here, and some scones and clotted cream in the middle, and then tarts and other sweet bites on top.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Lysithea was so overwhelmed she forgot to be mad at Felix, or Cyril, or herself. She forgot about everything except the piled stack of two-bite hand pies and carefully decorated mini cakes and sugar spun flower toppings. She eagerly reached for the top of the tower, but Felix barely seemed to notice that food had arrived.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s your favorite?” he asked, leaned forward so the tower blocked his face from Lysithea. She didn’t trust his expression, whatever it was.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“All of them,” Annette said immediately. “Every single one. Mercie’s amazing at baking, everything she does is perfect.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well that’s not very helpful to me, is it?” Felix said. “How do I know what to start with?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Start at the bottom and work your way up,” Annette suggested. “Or start at the top and work your way down.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, shoot, I was planning on starting in the middle,” Felix said, and he leaned back enough that Lysithea could see he </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> grinning, or Felix’s version of it, and he looked completely stupid. She pulled a face at him, but he didn’t look over, and she suspected she’d already smeared whipped cream on herself by now, anyways. “I’m hopeless at this,” he added.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Annette giggled in response. Her standards were ever lower than Lysithea remembered, and middle schoolers weren’t renowned for their standards as far as she could recall. “You’ll just have to come back until you get the hang of it,” she said. “I’ll check back and see if you need more tea, okay? And you can tell me what </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> favorite is, then.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lysithea couldn’t tell if she was humming the same song as she walked away, but she was definitely humming </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She was barely out of earshot when Lysithea slammed her tea cup down.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Unbelievable,” she said. “Acting like me and these cucumber sandwiches aren’t sitting right here.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re acting like I’m Sylvain or something,” Felix said. “I just like it when she laughs, what’s wrong with that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“First, she’s probably just laughing to be polite,” Lysithea snapped, which was a possibility. “And just because you’re not the worst of your friends doesn’t mean you have a great track record with dating. What happened to that one girl you dated in college? The vocal performance major?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t start with this, Sith,” Felix said, angrily biting into a cucumber sandwich then giving it a surprised glance. Lysithea grabbed the other one off the bottom of the tray before he could take it – she knew when Felix liked something.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You ‘forgot’ to go to her senior recital, is that why she broke up with you? Refresh my memory,” Lysithea said. She took a bite of the sandwich. It was surprisingly salty, for cucumbers.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I did forget, it was finals week, don’t use air quotes at me,” Felix snapped. “Besides, that’s one mistake.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What about that girl you hung around with freshman year? I barely even saw her after you two called it off.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, if you’re going to bring up my </span>
  <em>
    <span>high school girlfriend</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Felix said. “And Bernie and I are still friends, that just proves what a great guy I am.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Only because she can’t even open a bank account without you there to hold her hand,” Lysithea mumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Bernie’s fine; leave her out of this,” Felix said. He took a bite out of a blueberry tart and put the rest of it on Lysithea’s plate, returning to the bottom rung of the stacked tray to look for more savory sandwiches.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, what about that guy in your photography class? What was his name, Ashe?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wow, so glad it’s time for Lysithea’s Weird Photographic Memory,” Felix mumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“He looked at you like you were some sort of superhero, and you ghosted him after like three dates. One that you dragged me and Cyril along on!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>ghost</span>
  </em>
  <span> him,” Felix snapped. “I sent him a very nice text.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s even </span>
  <em>
    <span>worse.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, I’ll admit it,” Felix said. “I wasn’t the greatest guy in college. But I don’t think this is what this is about.” He waved a tart at her accusingly, crumbs of a delicate pastry flying across the table as he did so. “I think you’re just mad that I’m having a good day when I’m supposed to be throwing you a pity party. I think it could be anyone here with you, and it could be their fucking soulmate on the other side of that counter, and you’d still be mad about it. So don’t make this about me.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Lysithea glared at him, which was hard to do, given that she’d just popped an entire petit four in her mouth. Felix never knew when to let up; that was his problem.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t even have time to unpack how many ways you’re wrong,” Lysithea said with a swallow and a sniff. She reached for her teacup, only to find it empty. She grabbed her teapot a little too hastily, and tea splashed onto the table as she poured. “So I won’t. Flirt with whoever you want; see if I care.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You always make things about you,” muttered Felix. He bit into the final petit four at the top of the stand, wincing at the sugar content and wordlessly putting the remaining on her plate.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone has to,” Lysithea replied darkly, and she took the petit four from him without comment. They sipped their tea in silence, then, done with petty arguments and not wanting to escalate to meaningful ones.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I really didn’t think the cucumber sandwiches would be good,” Felix said finally, as they both reached the dregs of the teapots, both out of reasons to keep the tense silence but neither wanting to actually apologize.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Way better than they have any right to be,” Lysithea agreed. “I might try making them at home.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That would involve buying something other than ramen and ice cream at the grocery store,” Felix pointed out.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“New day, new me, Felix,” Lysithea said, drawing herself to her full height. “Maybe single Lysithea is a sous chef waiting to happen.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Atta girl,” said Felix, his voice entirely too flat to be even remotely encouraging. He looked around towards the front counter. “You want me to get this? I think we pay at the front.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nah, I got it,” Lysithea said quickly, standing up and grabbing her purse before Felix could argue. “You went to all the trouble of dragging my ass out of bed; I guess I owe you.” She shot him a smile with no teeth, a tentative peace treaty.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He smirked back, accepting her conditions. “Can I get a recording of that? I’ll make it my ringtone for you,” he said cheerfully. Lysithea rolled her eyes as she walked to the front counter.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She was worried that she’d have to do something to get Annette’s attention, but the girl bustled out from the back doors before she’d even made it all the way to the counter.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“How was everything?” Annette asked brightly as she punched numbers into the register rapidly.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“So good – like, really,” Lysithea said. And she meant it. “I’d love to steal that scone recipe from you.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Trade secret, I’m afraid,” said Annette with a smile. “Mercie’s been perfecting those for years.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I can definitely tell,” Lysithea agreed, taking the receipt from and scribbling her name at the bottom. She barely held the price in her mind long enough to calculate tip – Cyril had always said she acted as if money didn’t even matter. Remembering that made it even harder to concentrate on the receipt in front of her. “I hope you guys are wildly successful,” she added, handing the receipt back to Annette.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, me too,” said Annette with a genuine, if panicked, giggle. “Tell everyone you know, okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Definitely. Oh – and Annie?” Lysithea leaned in as she said this, Annette matching her without thinking. “Sorry about my friend. He’s kind of a jerk; I hope he didn’t hurt your feelings.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Annette scrunched up her nose. “Hurt my feelings? No, he seemed – what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just, you know,” Lysithea said with a shrug, stuffing her copy of the receipt and her credit card back into her purse aimlessly. “The way he was teasing you. I told him to knock it off.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Annette’s face fell. “I didn’t think – he didn’t seem like he was teasing. He just seemed excited about the menu, you know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, he’s evil like that sometimes,” Lysithea said with an overly dramatic wince. She quickly shifted to a smile, snapping her purse shut. “This was great, running into you – we’ll have to get coffee sometime. Or tea, I guess that’s your thing. Bye, Annette!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Coffee sounds – that’d be great – bye, Lysithea,”  Annette said, looking over Lysithea’s shoulder as she said it, her eyebrows knit together.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Lysithea grabbed Felix’s arm before he could walk over to the counter and make even more of a fool of himself, dragging him out the door after her.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“She was looking at me when we left, though, yeah?” asked Felix as they walked back to his car. He swung his keyring around his finger with an annoying cheerfulness. “Did you give her my number?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I told her you were the worst person I knew and she should run screaming from you at every available opportunity,” Lysithea said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“See, you sound sarcastic, but that sounds like something you’d say,” Felix replied. His car beeped as they walked towards it, but unlike Cyril, Felix didn’t feel the need to open the door for Lysithea. She bundled herself into his car and grimaced as his stereo roared to life; some punk band from the 90s that should have stayed there.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure you don’t want to listen to Top 40 Trash?” Lysithea asked, and Felix gave a snort of laughter in response.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I might be swayed,” he said, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel as they pulled out of the parking spot. Lysithea realized that against all odds, he was holding his own against the pounding drums and fuzzy vocals, singing a counterpoint to himself that could only be a pieced together rendition of Annette’s terrible daffodil song.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They drove in silence – or, frankly, the opposite of silence – for a few blocks, but Felix eventually ran out of lyrics. Unfortunate, thought Lysithea, that they never found out if the flower and the walrus ended up together.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>When they stopped at a light Felix finally turned and looked at her.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay we’re both still starving though, right? Those sandwiches are </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>filling,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re paying this time,” Lysithea said, by way of agreement.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I pay, I drive, I choose the food,” Felix said. “It’s only fair.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I want a burger,” Lysithea said. Cyril hated fast food; he always kind of looked like he legitimately would rather be eating a salad. Lysithea was going to eat so much fast food this week, she decided.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe,” Felix replied enigmatically, taking a sharp left turn at the light, and Lysithea knew from his frown of concentration, as he mentally mapped the nearest fast food spots near them, that she’d won that small battle, as well.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightsstarr/pseuds/nightsstarr">Kait's </a> birthday, so I finally pulled this absolute Frankenstein's monster of an AU together enough to publish the first chapter. I think I started on this something like 6 ago (hey gang, remember when we used to go to <i>coffee shops<i>?) so expect the next update in, like, December.<br/>Ehh, chapter 1 kind of stands on its own, I guess!<br/> <br/><a href="https://twitter.com/cuttingaleforce">Go wish Kait happy birthday on twitter.</a><br/> <br/><a href="https://twitter.com/Rose3Writes"> And you can follow me, as well, even though my birthday isn't until May. </a><br/></i><br/></i></p></blockquote></div></div>
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